Sarah Martin is many things. She's the only blonde seventh year, an only child, Hufflepuff and friends with a certain Tabby. But all of these descriptions pale next to her wide-spread reputation as a monster without breakfast. She's usually quite a nice girl, unable to swat a fly, but all of that goes out the window. And one day, Sirius Black knocked into her when she hadn't had breakfast.

I live in Cell #647, Azkaban Prison, Unspecified Location. My neighbors are mutterers and screamers; my law-enforcers are Dementors. I live a peaceful, uneventful life in my little, meaningless cell. I am guilty. Honest to Merlin, I am. I did it. I did it and I’m not ashamed. I’m guilty of the crime, but I feel no guilt for having done it.
I’m guilty, but I’m not to blame.

From as far back as I can remember, I’ve been an insomniac. Nights would pass with restless pacing and tangled sheets. No sleep. It was a foreign concept to me. A full night’s sleep was a dream of mine when I caught myself napping while writing an essay for my tutor, or making a potion. Thus, the night was something I was familiar with.

To Beaubatons student Rebecca Johnson (who happens to be English, despite her express wish) tennis equates life. Ever since she could walk, she'd taken lessons. She's decent (at least 'decent' enough to always win). But when her parents move back to England, causing Rebecca to transfer to that Hog-whatever school, something changes in her priorities. Winning, friends, tennis...boys... This requires far too much thought.

It is perhaps the most well-known story of all time. The Lily and James Potter story. How they went to school together; how they got together; how they lived together and then, finally, how they loved together. They did each and every single one of those events, except for the most important one. They never got married. For James got married to me. And then I lost him.